


Under the Sicilian Sun

by cigarettesandalcohol



Category: Political RPF - Canadian 21st c., Political RPF - France 21st c.
Genre: Exhaustion, Fainting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-15 18:16:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11236515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cigarettesandalcohol/pseuds/cigarettesandalcohol
Summary: An exhausted president and a loving prime minister meet under the hot Sicilian sun.





	Under the Sicilian Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Just a silly fluff :) Nothing much happens, but it might get a sequel.  
> Also Justin is not exactly helpful in emergency situations XD And - as always - sorry for mistakes and typos.

“You look tired.”

“I am.”

“You should take a break for a while. I know it’s hard in the first weeks or months but believe me – “

“It’s okay, really. I’ll have some coffee and it’ll get better.”

They continued their walk through the garden. With all the photographers and bodyguards following them, they only had to worry about the volume of their voices. This was the most private moment they could get.

“You’re too harsh on yourself. How long have you been without proper sleep?”

“Since the election, probably,” Macron joked darkly.

“Manu...”

Trudeau made an attempt to grab his hand but was instantly rejected with a silent cough and hardly audiable “Please – don’t. _Not now_.”

“I care about you!” Justin whispered although his voice didn’t lose any of its urgency.

Emmanuel tried to smile. “I know but I can’t afford any weakness now.”

“It’s not a weakness to be human.”

“Can’t we talk about something else? This makes me feel even more exhausted.”

“I’m sorry – we can go over there, there’s a nice view of the ocean – “

“Alright. I just wish it wasn’t so hot – “

“This has to be the most romantic place in the world.”

“Have you been to Paris?”

“Actually, I heard Paris is dirty and not as romantic at all,” Justin mocked him. “I’d like to see it myself though.”

“You really _should_.”

He’d like to add something more, maybe a subtle sign of approval or a decent and private invitation for a Paris sightseeing but his vision got blurry and his head suddenly felt so heavy. “I need to sit down – “

“We can go back inside – “

“I really don’t feel... Oh God – “

With these words, he tried to grab the railing and hold onto it but his hand went limp in the same moment his feet just refused to support him any longer and the whole world took a horrible spin and then went black.

" _JESUS_!"

Justin felt his heart tighten painfully and he wasn't be able to make a slightest move in the first second, as if his whole body was paralyzed by the sight of French president falling to the ground right next to him.

 In the next few moments, he heard a chaotic mixture of _My God_ "s and  clicking of what sounded like thousands of cameras. He finally fully understood what had just happened and turned back confused, with a desperate expression on his usually _oh-so-smiling_ face. He noticed a couple of bodyguards running towards him and shouting _"What happened?!"_

He never felt so helpless; he wasn't able to keep his voice calm and the separate words that came out of his mouth didn't seem to form any meaningful sentence.

"We - it was - I asked him..."

"Stand back, please!"

Four bodyguard surrounded the collapsed Frenchman and left Justin aside, with racing heart and teary eyes.

"He was - tired - save him please!" Justin continued before his voice failed him.

One of the bodyguards turned his head and Trudeau noticed the obvious surprise on his face. "It looks just like a collapse from exhaustion, he'll be alright. It's nothing serious. We should get him somewhere in the shadow."

"Can you hear me, Mr. President?" another man spoke.

 Justin didn't quite catch what was the answer.

"It's okay - how do you feel? Do you remember what happened?"

Macron must have been speaking very quietly because Justin couldn't hear anything except the bodyguards.

"Can you stand up, sir? We'll help you. Slowly - "

Emmanuel got back on his feet with a major support of the four men. Other men in suits were already on the way, and some of them were speaking into their head microphones. Macron looked around with a dull, confused look on his pale face, and was immediately caughed on tens of cameras. Somebody started clapping and soon other people joined in - Macron answered with a weak smile and not very convincing gesture of a thumbs-up. He looked as a prisoner coming to the trial.

The Canadian was left alone by the railing. The journalists and photographers all seemed to follow the French president and his escort.

Justin leaned on the railing, closed his eyes and - finally - took a deep breath again. His hands were still shaking.

_Maybe he cares too much._


End file.
